Page 18 of A Furry Thing Called Love (Friends of Gaynor Beach Animal Rescue #7)
Arlo
“I promise, I’ll send you pictures every day. She’ll be fine,” Brooklyn says gently, his hazel eyes are kind as I hand over Millie’s lead to him.
“I’ll probably miss her more than she’ll miss me.” I look down at Millie, who while patiently sitting, also looks as if she’s going to vibrate out of her fur.
“That’s not true at all,” Brooklyn reassures me. “She’ll miss you, but I promise, I’ll make sure she has fun as well.”
Reaching down, I pet Millie, giving her some love before saying goodbye for the next ten days. “Thanks, Brooklyn. Don’t hesitate to call or text for any reason.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”
Taking a breath, I straighten up. “Okay. We’ll see you soon. Have fun, Millie.”
One final goodbye to Brooklyn, and Jordan ushers me into the car. “She’ll be okay,” Jordan says. “You know and trust Brooklyn.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “I just… I’ve never been away from her for longer than a few hours before.”
Jordan reaches over and sets a hand on my thigh in comfort.
Placing my hand over his, I sink into my seat and try not to worry.
I’m eternally grateful Brooklyn is willing to do boarding on top of his daycare, because otherwise, I have no idea what I would have done.
I probably would have made my sister fly down to stay with her.
It would have been worth the lifetime of teasing to ensure my baby was safe.
Traveling is stressful enough, and I’m already feeling guilty that I couldn’t bring Millie along, so not having the comfort and familiarity of Brooklyn would have most likely scared me enough to stay home.
The drive to the airport is uneventful. Thankfully, it’s early enough in the day that the traffic isn’t terrible—though I did feel bad for making Brooklyn get up at stupid o’clock so we could make sure we beat the worst of the LA traffic.
At the airport, Jordan gets our bags and the dogs situated, while I unfold my wheelchair and put my crutches in the holder on the back.
I hate having to travel with so many things, but even I’m not quite reckless enough to not bring the chair while going through the airport—having my own is much preferable to using an airport issued one.
Check-in goes smoothly, with them only glancing at Indie’s papers, and offering to assist me through the airport.
“Please,” Jordan tells the woman, giving me a Don’t you fucking argue look.
Internally, I sigh. While I’d argue under normal circumstances, since I can manage myself, thank you very much, it’s been years since I’ve been on a plane, and that was before I needed the chair. Well, before I admitted I needed the chair.
The last time I flew was for my sister’s wedding, and while I didn’t admit it until it was too late, I should have asked for more help.
The resulting relapse from putting my body through that was hell—that was a year or so before I got Eli, and was part of my decision to look into a service animal.
I was jaded about needing help, and getting a dog trained for mobility seemed like less of a step back than any other mobility aids.
The airline attendant helps get us through security, and to our gate.
Jordan speaks to the attendants at the gate about early boarding, and that is one good thing about having him with me—I don’t have to speak to people myself.
His mother henning may be slightly annoying and overbearing normally, but I won’t deny he’s a good person to travel with.
“Need anything?” Jordan asks.
I shake my head. “I’m good.” After a quick look around, I lean over a little and say quietly, “How’d you get Indie cleared to fly in the cabin?”
Jordan smiles. “You didn’t think the ‘Therapy Animal’ vest was just for show, did you? I’m not that type of person.”
“No, I know you’re not, that’s why I didn’t question you. I just wasn’t sure how you’d get around not having her in a crate.” I frown at the border collie. While on the small side, I highly doubt she’d fit in one of the crates that go under the seat.
“They’re not required to let therapy dogs through with no fees or issues, like service animals, but sometimes you get lucky. Today just happened to be my lucky day. She is truly trained as a therapy dog, and I’ve taken her to the children’s hospital when I’ve had time.”
I nod. “Makes sense.”
“It helps that I have documentation of her training, as well. It’s also why I keep her on a lead. I trust her enough, but I don’t trust other people.”
I agree with him. I don’t have Eli on a lead because it’s easier for him to walk beside me and for me to use my chair without one, but I have it close at hand if need be. Just because the patches on his vest say “Do not touch”, it doesn’t mean people actually listen.
“Are you excited?”
I shrug. “A little. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a plane, and never with Eli, so that’s a bit daunting, but I’m happy to be going with you.”
Jordan reaches for my hand, threading our fingers together. “I’m glad you are too. I can’t wait for you to meet Val and Luka, they’re going to love you.”
A fissure of worry runs through me, but having Jordan’s hand in mine helps. “I hope so.”
“They will. They know how important you are to me.” He glances at me, pink staining his cheeks from his confession.
I smile gently. “You’re important to me, too.”
Jordan squeezes my hand and I tighten my grip just a little, already dreading the moment I have to let go.